Touch
by Freedom4America4ever
Summary: My story of being sexually abused and the forgiveness that set me free.


**When I was nine years old I was sexual molested by the son of a close family friend. We spent lot of time at their house and even stayed there when my dad was on a missionary trip. My older teenage siblings and the teenagers of the family would often take turns staying in the house to babysit us younger kids while the others would go outside. The first time he touch me was when one of times when he was supposed to be watching us. **

**Nobody ever suspected or knew what was going on upstairs, I don't blame anyone for it, on the outside the boy look like your normal teenager. The only way they could have known was if I told, and I didn't until two years after it happened. I was still such a little girl when it happened; it never occurred to me that what he was doing could have been wrong. I didn't like it, but I had always told to listen to the older kids so I didn't stop him. **

**I don't think I would have ever told unless my friends and I hadn't had a "tell your darkest secrets time", afterwards, one of my friend told her mom, who told the boy's mom, who then told my mom. Please don't get me wrong, my parents are not to blame for anything that happened, I never told them and when they found out they immediately made sure I was never even near him. **

**For a long time I struggle with what had happened, I was so afraid that someday I would do the same thing to my own children. But God remind me that we all have the power to make our own decisions, and I could **_**choose**_** if I was going to that or not. I finally came to realized that the only way I could on with my life was to forgive him: again. I forgive him for the first time soon after it happened, but as I got older, it became harder to keep that forgiveness in my heart. I will never be able to forget what happened, but through God's grace I have forgiven him and moved on. To anyone who has suffered abuse and feels like they can never heal, remember forgiveness is the key that will set you free. No matter how hard it is or how much you don't want to, you must forgive in order to find true healing. And through Jesus we **_**can**_** forgive and heal, because "all things are possible through Christ who strengthens us".**

**I wanted to write this poem for a while, but the time never seemed right until now. I hope that by sharing my story I am helping people to find the same healing through forgiveness that I did.**

**TOUCH**

Sometimes I wonder why it was me. What set me apart? What made you want to touch me? The little girl I was, you took from me.

Have you ever felt the feel of a man's hands where they shouldn't be? Have you ever had something happen to you that shouldn't be? Have you ever been shamed, innocent taken away?

_Do you remember me? The little girl I used to be? Do you remember what you did to the little girl that once was me? Do you know what it's like to be shamed, to be numbered, to stand out in the crowd? It's like having a sign upon my back, a brand upon my forehead, a chain around my leg, a wound in my soul. This is what your touch has done to me._

I see you know, nine years past. You would never know by your face the things you have done in the past. A wife and child are by your side, you've moved on, but how can I?

The memories your face brings to me. The shamed remembered, the guilt never set free. How can one do what you did and then forget it in the blink of an eye? I can never forget, I feel like I can never move on, I am broken inside.

_Do you remember me? The little girl I used to be? Do you remember what you did to the little girl that once was me? Do you know what it's like to be shamed, to be numbered, to stand out in the crowd? It's like having a sign upon my back, a brand upon my forehead, a chain around my leg, a wound in my soul. This is what your touch has done to me._

Do you ever think of me and feel regret? Are you ever sorry for what you did to me? When you look at your child, do you ever see me? If I was him would you have still done what you did to me?

Sometimes I hate you for the things you have done to me. And then sometimes I wonder will you ever have a little girl that will feel like me? Will her daddy touch her like he once touched me?

_Do you remember me? The little girl I used to be? Do you remember what you did to the little girl that once was me? Do you know what it's like to be shamed, to be numbered, to stand out in the crowd? It's like having a sign upon my back, a brand upon my forehead, a chain around my leg, a wound in my soul. This is what your touch has done to me._

For nine long years I have carried your touch in my heart. It has haunted me in the day, and kept me awake in the night. Will you touch forever haunt me? Will I ever be free from it? Will I ever move on?

They say that forgiveness is divine, and so it must be. But how can I forgive and thus be set free? Forgiveness is the key that opens the door, and all I must do is step through and my shame will be no more.

_D_o _you remember me? The little girl I used to be? Do you remember what you did to the little girl that once was me? Do you know what it's like to be shamed, to be numbered, to stand out in the crowd? It's like having a sign upon my back, a brand upon my forehead, a chain on my leg, a wound in my soul. This is what your touch has done to me._

But how can I forgive? I have held on so long. In forgiving I must put aside the hate I have felt for you since that day so long gone. But do I want to go on living with this hate in my heart? I know I do not, so to forgive I put my heart.

I have forgiven you and now I am free! My hatred is buried; your touch no longer haunts me. The shame I felt is no more. I have never felt so free; at last I know what peace really means.

_So now… Do you remember me? The little girl I used to be? Even if you don't remember the little girl that once was me it doesn't matter, because, I am free. I am not ashamed, I am not numbered, I don't have to stand out in the crowd. You are forgiven, and I am set free, and I don't have to have a sign upon my back, a brand upon my forehead, a chain upon my leg, a wound in my soul. I am free; your touch no longer haunts me._


End file.
